


Concussion + Bullet-wound

by wolfypuppypiles



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Concussions, Fear, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Procedures, Pain, Panic, Papa Jack, Protective Jack, Whump, Worried Jack, Worry, bullet wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 01:31:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13066344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfypuppypiles/pseuds/wolfypuppypiles
Summary: Mac doesn't know where he is when he wakes up, and doesn't know why everyone is shouting, but he knows he'd like them to stop.Concussions and MacGyver plans do not mix well





	Concussion + Bullet-wound

**Author's Note:**

> Idk why this just came into my head so I really hope you like it please let me know and also special thanks to reivenesque on tumblr for helping me with this!

The world tilted sharply, making Mac suddenly aware that he had a stomach, when it twisted. He must have caught something on their last mission. Voices crept into Mac’s awareness, not making sense in their, muffled, syrupy state. 

“-all her! Matty needs to know we aren’t going to make our exfil!”

“We’ll make it!” That was the unmistakable grumble of one Jack Dalton, something that Mac had heard enough times to recognise anywhere.

“Not unless we can make it to the airstrip in five minutes!” That voice was closer than Jack’s one, and it sounded a lot like Riley; but why would she and Jack be in his bedroom?

Jack’s voice came again, as Mac tried to wake up enough to tell them to stop yelling. 

“I can drive pretty fast!” 

His shout seemed to smack Mac in the head, and he groaned as he tired to turn away from it. 

A gasp sounded above him, as gentle fingers weaved through his hair; and now that MacGyver was waking up, he could feel a lot more. Like, material brushing against his temple, as something was pressed to his head, as well as pressure on his thigh, that was slowly being translated into pain.

“Mac? Open your eyes, we could really use you right now.” Riley sounded panicked, which was never a good sign, but he still didn’t know what she could be doing in his bedroom.

He obeyed her orders, despite his confusion, and blinked until his eyes cracked open, and the images above him cleared; morphing from smears of color to distinctable shapes and faces. 

Riley was looking down at him, holding his head in her lap, as she pressed what seemed to be a shirt, to his head. She looked worried, but smiled when he opened his eyes. 

“Oh, thank god.”

The world swung to the side again, which was a strange way for the world to behave. Jack yelled back to him from wherever he was. “He awake? Mac, I need you to fix up something to get these guys off our tail!” His shout was interrupted with the sound of gunfire, and tire squeals. Bozer must be playing video games.

The young genius had no idea what Jack had been talking about, and grumbled as he lifted a hand to wipe his eyes. “Ugh, what time is it?” 

He felt awful, like he’d either been hit by a truck or gotten wasted the night before; why were they waking him up? 

There was a crash, making Mac flinch, while Riley gently tugged his hand down from his head, and Jack was yelling again. 

“Mac! Make a grenade or something! A grappling hook? Anything!” God, he was loud. Mac frowned, not liking the amount of pain that he was suddenly having to deal with. It pounded through his head, and ached in his left leg so badly, he was beginning to think something must be seriously wrong with it. It didn’t help that his stomach was still clenching and twisting in a way that made it clear he would be throwing up soon. 

Jack was too loud, so Mac ignored him and blinked up at the girl above him, trying to get his words to come out right, but they were sticky and fell out in melted clumps that didn’t make a lot of sense.

“Riley? Whyreyu...ugh why are you...in my house?”

She frowned, her eyebrows coming down over her dark eyes, but it wasn’t in anger; she looked concerned. 

“We aren’t in your house Mac.”

This time it was Macs turn to frown. “...Then where are we?”

A new face quickly joined the picture, as Bozer leaned over Mac so that he could see him as he spoke. “Mexico, in a van. Definitely not our house, although I’d rather be there right now, at least then I’d have something decent to tie this bandage with.”

There were several things that didn’t make sense all of a sudden. Why were they in Mexico? Why couldn’t Mac remember that? And why exactly did they need a bandage?

Rileys fingers ran soothingly through his hair as he lifted his head enough to look down at himself. They seemed to be in a van, with Jack at the wheel, while Mac lay on the floor, head in Riley’s lap, and Bozer holding torn up clothing to Mac’s thigh. There was blood everywhere, smeared all over the inside of the van, the floor, and over Bozers hands and clothes. Well, that explained why he hurt so much. 

Everything was quiet for a moment, but less because there was no noise and more because Mac was blocking out everything to focus. Everything had changed so suddenly, he could have gotten whiplash. He wasn’t at home, he was in Mexico. Bleeding out.

Rileys hands guided his head back to her knees, and her soft fingers stroked over his temple, in an attempt to calm him. 

“What happened?” 

Bozer answered, words overlapped by Jacks own curses as he tried to drive faster. “It was supposed to be recon on a shady dude with way too many shell corporations, and too many ties to gang related deaths in the area. But he made you, and by the time we got there he’d already knocked you out.” 

Riley lifted the shirt from his head, sighing in relief when she saw that the wound had clotted and stopped bleeding. “You were out for a while, and this is going to need stitches. Looks like he hit you with his gun.”

Jack looked back at the three young agents, as he continued to drive; frantically taking any route he could, that might lose the tail they had on them. “Yeah, and then he shot you with it! And now him and his whole entourage are after us!”

The world- no the van, it was a van- the van swerved sharply again, unbalancing Bozer enough for his weight to shift completely to his hands on Mac’s thigh, and everything went white. 

When colour and sound returned, his throat ached, feeling raw as if he’d been screaming, and his face was wet. Riley shushed him as she brushed at his cheeks, drying the tears that had escaped, and Bozer was apologizing profusely as Jack started to yell again. 

“Mac, I know you’re hurting but I need you up and doing your thing man!”

“He was hit in the head, and shot Jack! He’s barely even conscious right now, just drive!” Riley was mad, and Mac panted through the pain, hoping she wasn’t mad at him. Everything was so confusing. Where was he again? 

“Hey, I hate to rush him, and you know no one is more worried about him than I am, but we aren’t getting these guys off of us unless someone does something!”

Oh, that sounded like a mission. Mac could do those, he just needed to catch his breath first.  
He took a moment, until his panting was slow enough that he no longer had black spots in his vision, before getting to work. 

“I got it.” His words were slurred, and his eyes threatened to roll back as soon as he attempted to sit up, but he had to try and help. 

Riley was fretting, talking about needing him to lie down, but Mac was determined, and all she could do was sit him up with his back against her chest so that he wouldn’t fall down. 

Mac’s eyes kept wanting to close, and it was hard to concentrate when everything hurt so badly, but he found an empty water bottle rolling around the floor, and he grabbed it, listing all the other things he’d need for a grenade, in his head. 

His hands were clumsy, but he screwed the bottle top on tight, and threw it out the window. Nothing happened. 

“Did it blow up?”

Bozer made a face, something between confusion and concern, as his hands continued to press against Mac’s leg. 

“No, man. It was just a water bottle.”

Mac’s brain tripped over itself for a second, as he tried to remember what else he’d added. It was only a few seconds ago but he couldn’t separate his thoughts from his memories and he wasn't totally sure about what he had done. 

“I thought I added the other stuff to make it go boom?”

Bozers frown deepened. “No?”

Riley patted his hair back from his face, adjusting her grip on the shirt pressed to the cut on his head, and Mac slumped against her hold. “Oh, I must have just thought about it. Whoops.”

Jack was getting more frantic, as bullets skittered dangerously close to the van.  
“Mac?!”

“Give him a minute Jack!” 

Bozer cursed as he fumbled at the bandages on Macs thigh. “Where’s your gun? I’ll just shoot their tires out!” 

Jack didn’t look back this time, yelling as he tried to keep the van steady. “You stick your head out the window and you’ll get it shot off, no ones shooting out their tires.” 

Mac looked around the small space and tried to find something he could use. His stomach was still turning, and he swallowed the nausea as best he could. 

“I got it, I'll fix it.” 

He tried to sit up straighter, but Riley pulled him back to her chest as his hands flailed about reaching for whatever supplies he could get his hands on. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

Despite her protests, his hands managed to snag a tangle of rope, and he quickly started tying knots into the length. He was clumsier than usual, and his vision was doubling and blurring, but he managed to tie a wrench to the end, and handed it to Riley as he lay back, exhausted. 

“Here, throw it out the window.” 

The hacker frowned at his handiwork. “A wrench on a rope? That’s it?”

Bozer gave her a look, as he jerked his chin towards their injured friend. Because it may not have been the plan of the year but Mac had done pretty well considering the fact that his eyes were barely open. 

Riley got the gist and patted Macs shoulder.   
“I mean...good job buddy, you did great.” 

Bozer was busy with Macs leg, desperately trying to stop the bleeding, so it was left to Riley to throw the projectile out the window. It was a stretch, holding Mac upright while getting her arm close enough to the window to throw the rope out. She also needed to get close enough to be able to actually aim. Realistically, it wasn’t possible, and she gently apologised as she shifted Mac off her lap and onto the floor. 

Jack looked up at the rear view mirror, watching her get closer to the window, as Mac groaned at his growing nausea. “Be careful Ri, don’t give them too big a target.” 

Bullets pounded on the van walls, and Riley jumped back with a curse, waiting until the gunfire stopped till she swung her arm out again. 

Mac vision was so badly blurred that he couldn’t focus on Riley at all, but he assumed the plan went well, as he heard tires squeak and something crash. The others cheered, as the vehicle following them crashed, the wrench and rope tangling in their wheels. 

Jack whooped in joy from the front of the van, smacking his hands against the steering wheel with glee, but Mac didn’t feel so good. 

“Hmm… Jack.” 

The older man turned back to look at him for a few seconds before turning back to the road, as Riley scooted behind Mac and helped him sit back up against her chest. “Yeah buddy? How you doing back there?”

“Don’t feel good.” 

Riley’s arm was around his chest, keeping him steady, but the van was going so fast, and the road was none too smooth. 

Jack attempted to placate him, voice soothing. “I know little man, we’ll get you patched up soon enough.” 

Mac groaned, lifting a hand to his mouth as he came dangerously close to expelling his stomach contents all over himself. “No, I mean I’m…. ugh… I’m gonna…” 

Jacks eyes suddenly widened in understanding, and he nodded furiously. “Oh! Okay, no problemo. We’ll get somewhere safe and you can let it all out.” 

Riley patted Macs hair back from his face, checking on the gash across his head, and sighed, satisfied that it was clotted and holding for now.

“It must be the concussion. We’re going to have to find somewhere to lay low and patch him up. We’ve missed the exfil, they would have had to leave by now.” 

Bozer swore again, hands letting out a disgustingly audible squelch as he pressed on the bullet wound. “This isn’t stopping, and I’m running out of stuff to use as bandages. He’s losing too much blood, I’m gonna have to use a tourniquet.” 

Jack looked back, concern written all over his face. “No, no, no, you use one of those and he could lose his leg.” 

Bozer’s hands were covered in blood, and the van floor was soaked with it. He didn’t have a lot of options, and it was getting harder to keep his head about it. “I know! But if I don’t get this bleeding stopped he’ll go into shock!” 

The van went quiet for a moment, everyone weighing their options. They were operating in a foreign country without actual permission to be there, and a hospital would have to report a gunshot wound, which would end with their arrest. So, that was out of the question.

On the other hand, a tourniquet could be used to restrict the flow of blood to the wound, which would mean Mac wouldn’t lose so much, but it also posed the risk of amputation. Without blood flowing to the limb, the tissues and nerves would start to die, and there wasn’t much anyone could do once that happened. 

Riley looked down at the agent in her arms, he was pale, and his breathing was too rapid and shallow for her liking. Bozer was finding it harder to stay calm, and she knew that they needed to do something fast. 

Her fingers found Mac’s throat, gently pressing to find his pulse. She sighed when she found it to be fluttery and fast, and nodded at Bozer. 

“Do it. Jack drive faster, and find somewhere for us to hole up in until Matty can get a medevac to us.”

Bozer didn’t waste any time, tearing off the shoulder strap from a bag behind him, and slipping it under Mac’s thigh. Jack slammed his foot to the floor, as he drive to the nearest housing area, knuckles white on the steering wheel as he worried for his friend. 

Mac groaned in pain at the movement of his injury, and Bozer muttered apologies in between his continuous ramble of first aid training. 

“Sorry, sorry. Okay, about two inches from the wound, between the wound and the heart. Tight enough to stop the blood flow, making sure it doesn't slip-oh, I need to cut these pants open. Where’s Macs pocket knife?”

Riley fished it from Mac’s pocket, shushing the genius as he made noises of pain, and handed it to Bozer, watching as he tore open Mac’s pant leg. 

“I can do this. I know what to do. I am not going to be responsible for my best friend losing a limb.”

Riley shared a look with Jack, in the rearview mirror, before she turned to Bozer, placing a hand on his arm. “Hey, it’ll be okay. You got this, and no matter what happens, we all made this decision together. He’ll be fine.”

Bozer wasn’t so sure, but her gaze was steady, and her grip was a reassuring weight on his arm. He nodded and took a deep breath, speaking louder, as he addressed the two, non-injured, occupants of the van.

“This should hold for about two hours, but after that there will be permanent nerve damage. Ice packs around it can buy us a little time, but not much. We need to get somewhere safe, to keep him warm, and we need that medevac as soon as possible.”

Jack nodded from the driver's seat, and turned the van around a corner as gently as he could. “Got it, there’s a house up ahead. Looks like it’s empty.”

Bozer didn’t look up as he nodded, carefully looping the strap around Mac’s thigh and cinching it off, tight. He watched the wound closely, as he used a pen to twist the material until it was tight enough to stop the bleeding, taking note of the time.

The increased pressure, and sensation of someone squeezing his wound, pulled Mac from his semi-conscious state, and pulled a cry of pain from his mouth as he arched up and tried to pull bozer hands away from him. 

He was getting more confused as time went on, and Riley was getting increasingly worried. Mac was usually very good with pain, but he couldn’t block it out when so tired and out of it. She wasn't used to seeing him so vulnerable. It scared her. 

She placed a hand on his forehead and gently pulled him back to lay against her, frowning when she felt his damp, cool skin. 

“Guys, he’s not doing so good. We need to hurry.”

The van pulled over a few seconds later, and Jack drew his gun as he got out. “I’ll clear the place, while you get him ready to go inside. I’ll be right back, stay low.”

Mac didn’t really understand what was happening, blinking at the red smeared over everything, as small noises of discomfort fell from his mouth. 

His stomach was turning again, and he could feel that awful lump of nausea working its way up his throat. He tried to tell them what was happening, but his words came out garbled and nonsensical, and it was all he could do to claw his way to the van door and clamp his mouth shut. 

Riley seemed to understand what he wanted and quickly pulled the door open, dragging him over as carefully as she could. He almost didn’t make it in time, throwing his head out the door and throwing up into the grass as Riley held him up.   
He felt absolutely awful, eyes closed as he panted and tried to keep anything else from coming up. 

Jack came out of the house, with his gun back in its holster, just as Mac leant over and threw up for the second time. The man winced in sympathy, and stepped around the puddle. 

“Aw, bud. Let’s get you inside, huh?”

The house was empty, the owners presumably on holiday, which was the good news; the bad news was that getting Mac inside the house was going to hurt, a lot. 

Jack found a sheet, and brought it over to the van, so that they could use it to carry their injured team-mate inside. 

Mac didn’t want to move, but Jacks voice was easy for him to latch onto, as he was slowly lifted onto the sheet, and carried inside.

It took some tricky maneuvering, but soon enough, they had Mac in the house, groaning in pain again as they lifted him onto the kitchen table. 

Once down, Bozer and Riley ran off to get supplies, while Jack leant over his friend and brushed that blonde hair back. 

“You just hang in there, okay? We’ll get you patched up soon. Everything’s gonna be okay, Mac. I promise.” Those blue eyes blinked up at him, confused and exhausted, and his breathing was more laboured than Jack would have liked. 

Riley and Bozer came back, arms full of supplies, and dumped them on the table. 

“I got more bandages, and some blankets; he needs to stay warm.” Jack nodded, and took one that Riley offered, carefully wrapping it around the lightly shivering agent. 

Bozer had first aid supplies in hand, and a bottle of vodka. Jack looked at the bottle with knowing eyes, and the other man nodded. “I have antiseptic wipes for the cut on his head, but they aren't going to be enough for that bullet wound.” 

They both knew it would hurt, and that Mac wouldn’t like it at all, especially since he didn’t seem to know what was happening anymore. 

Jack knew that it was necessary but it didn’t make it any better. He silently took up his position at Mac’s side, wrapping his arm around Mac’s chest, hand firmly holding the kids side, as he began to talk to him, to keep him distracted. 

Riley swallowed nervously, and decided that she couldn’t stand to see Mac in anymore pain. “I’ll set up communications with Matty, see how far away medevac is.” 

She left, looking mildly sick, but Jack didn’t have time to worry about that right now. That was a lie, he always had time to worry about that girl, but he worried about her in the back of his mind, as he used most of his brain space for keeping Mac distracted and awake. 

“Hey, Mac you there? Open your eyes, bud, come on.”   
The agent was barely awake, eyes rolling under their lids as he moaned, squirming a little in Jacks hold. 

Bozer took a second to put on the gloves he’d found in the first aid kit, even though his hands were already covered in blood, before ripping open the antiseptic wipes. 

Jack tried to stop Mac from squirming, but it seemed the kid just wanted to be able to hold onto his friend, and settled down as soon as Jack grabbed his hand. “There, you good now? I need you to stay still, and keep your eyes open, Mac, you can do it. Look at me, bud.”

Those eyes opened a crack, focussing on the figure above him, but it was clear that Mac wasn’t really all there. Jack knew it was most likely just due to the blood loss and adrenaline crash from the day, but it would make him feel a lot better if Mac could just stay awake and keep talking. He’d even take a nerdy lecture at this point. 

Bozer got ready to wash out Mac’s head wound first, and Jack smiled down at his partner. “Hey, Mac you remember that mission in Maracaibo, with those rogue agents trying to sell state secrets?” 

A mumble came from the kid on the table, as Bozer carefully started wiping the blood away from the wound, and Jack leant in close to hear what he was saying. 

“Was in cara...mmm.”

Jack nodded. “No, you’re right, that was in Caracas, Maracaibo was the terrorists. I get them mixed up. How did we beat those dirty agents again?”

Mac’s eyes opened a bit wider, as he tried to remember what Jack was talking about, wincing at the sting at his forehead. “Hmm...gave up.” 

Jack patted his shoulder, flicking his eyes up to Bozer for a second, to watch him disinfect the wound, and take out butterfly bandages. “That’s right, the classic fake out. Those guys were morons, thinking they caught us. And then you used your garbage treasure to blow up the wall and trap them in, so we could take them on one at a time without anyone getting away. That was fun.”

Bozer nodded to Jack, letting him know the butterfly strips were in place and secure. Now came the hard part. 

Jack took a deep breath and tried to smile as he looked into those blue eyes that were so full of trust. This would not go well.

Mac was usually pretty good with pain, he’d had enough experience with it, and as an agent, he’d had training on how to deal with it. But he couldn’t exactly concentrate, at the moment. 

Bozer held Mac’s leg as still as he could, while Jack held the rest of him, because if he moved too much he could make the situation a lot worse.

Jack held him firm, and tried to position his body so that Mac wouldn’t be able to see what Bozer was doing. “Mac, this is going to hurt, but I need you to stay still. Just concentrate on me, and squeeze my hand.”

The whole process didn’t last very long, at least not from Macs perspective. One moment, he was trying to concentrate on Jacks voice, and the next he was screaming at the agony in his leg. It hurt so badly; it burned and stung, and he couldn’t get away from it, could barely move at all. Jack was there, holding him still and muttering apologies, demanding he stay awake, but it was too much, and Macs breaths were coming too fast. His eyes rolled back, and he slept. 

……. 

Jack cursed, letting go of Mac to instead place his fingers to his pulse point, the other hand against his heaving chest. 

“His vitals aren’t looking all that good, and now he’s passed out. If we don’t get help here soon, he’s not going to make it. Riley? Where are we at with the medevac?”

Bozer started cleaning up the mess of blood and alcohol from the table, as Riley poked her head through the doorway, laptop in hand. 

“They're on their way. I have Matty on video call right now, she wants to talk to you.”

Jack nodded, patting Mac’s chest and fussing over the kids blanket, before handing him off to Riley, and taking the laptop instead. 

“Try to wake him up, and keep him warm.” The young agent nodded, and Jack turned his attention to the screen as he walked to another room.

“Hey, Matty. Sorry the mission got so out of hand but that guy was-”

Matilda cut him off, shaking her head and looking uncharacteristically concerned. “For once, it’s not your fault. How’s our boy genius doing?”

Jack didn’t know if he wanted to lay out the situation, because admitting that they could lose Mac hurt as much as Mac’s bullet wound did. 

“Not good. He’s losing too much blood, we had to use a tourniquet, and now he’s passed out. He’s cold and clammy, his breathing and heart beats too fast and not nearly as strong as it should be. All signs point towards shock, and we have a limited window on that tourniquet. Matty, if we don’t get someone here soon…” He sucked in a breath, averting his eyes from the screen so that Matty wouldn't see how wet they were. 

Because he had been working with Angus MacGyver for a long while, and that little nerd got into your heart so fast there was nothing you could do to stop it, even if you wanted to. 

It was Jack's job to keep him safe, and it was one he took very seriously; and he knew that no matter what else their crazy dangerous job threw at them, the one thing he could not survive, was losing Mac. 

Once he could breathe through the lump in his throat, he tried again, but it was shaky and thin. “I can’t lose that kid. I won’t. So, you get someone here, now, and fix him up.”

Matty nodded, heart aching at seeing Jack cry. “I will. I’ll do everything I can to help him, Jack. I promise.”

The older agent nodded, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand, but didn’t have the luxury of more time to compose himself. Both his and Mattys heads snapped up at the sound of Mac yelling. 

“Stop it! I have to fix it!” He sounded weak but more than determined, while Riley’s voice was one of panic. 

“Mac, lay down! Jack, get in here!”

Jack took the laptop with him, and set it on a nearby bench, as he raced over to Riley and Bozer, who were trying to keep Mac on the table, despite his furious attempts to get off it. 

He was pushing against their hands, and doing everything he could to sit up, groaning in pain when his leg was moved, and unaware that it was him that was moving it. Jack rushed over to his side, and placed his hands on Mac’s cheeks, turning his gaze to his. 

“Mac, stop! Stop moving!”

The kid’s eyes were glassy, and tired, as he shook his head and pushed against Jack and Riley’s hands. “No, no, no. I have to make it, I have to save everyone!”

Jack almost wanted to cry again. The poor kid wasn’t making any sense, he probably didn’t even know where he was. “Mac, listen to me. I need you to lay still and take a deep breath. I’m right here, and you know I will never let anything happen to you, so just stop and take a deep breath.”

Jack ignored the sour voice in his head, telling him it was too late to promise never to let anything happen to Mac, and instead watched those blue eyes find his.

Mac had always trusted Jack, because although Mac was undoubtedly smarter, Jack always had his back, and would always protect him. So, when Jack told him to stop and take a deep breath, it was probably a good idea. 

Jack took a theatrical breath in of his own, nodding as Mac followed his lead. “Good, there we go. Just calm down.”

Riley slowly retracted her restraining hands, and sighed, taking back her laptop and leaving Mac in Jack's care; watching as he patiently spoke to his injured team-mate. 

“Okay, now tell me what's wrong. Whats happening in that mind of yours?”

Mac’s hands were gripping at Jacks, desperate to make him understand. “I have to make the bomb, to save all the people. I have to do it.”

Jack frowned. What the hell was he talking about?

“Mac, you aren't making any sense. What people?”

MacGyver didn’t want to sit still anymore, because he needed to save them, and he wouldn't be stopped. “The people, they’re trapped and we’re running out of time. I have to blow up the wall so we can get through.”

He started pushing against Jack again, trying to get off the table, and Jack quickly held him back down. “Okay, okay. I’ll let you build the bomb but you cannot move while you do it. Do you understand me? You stay still, and I will get you what you need.”

Mac nodded, and relaxed against the table, shivering just a little under his blanket. 

Riley and Bozer looked confused, but Jack actually may have understood what Mac was talking about. 

A few weeks back, they’d had a mission where civilians had been trapped in a cave in, and Mac had used a bomb to get them out. Mac was so confused, he thought he was back there, helping those people. And hey, if it kept him still and calm, Jack would go along with it.

He sighed, as Mac settled down. “Good, now what do you need to make this bomb?”

Mac looked around the room, eyes blinking tiredly, and he jerked his chin towards some toys in the next room. “That remote controlled car, and the walkie talkies. I need some accelerent too.” It was hard to take him seriously when he was mispronouncing almost all of his words, tongue clumsy and tired, but Jack didn’t have any better ideas. 

Riley was frowning in confusion, but did as she was asked, and fetched the toys, handing them over, as Jack dashed to the other side of the kitchen. 

Mac took the toys gratefully, and began tearing them apart, before Jack came back with bright red plasticine in hand. “Here, Mac.”

Riley didn’t know what he was supposed to do with that, but Mac’s eyes widened as he carefully took the mound. “Where did you get C4 from Jack?”

Riley scoffed. “What?”

Jack gave her a pointed look, and nudged her arm as he spoke in an exaggerated voice for Mac. “Oh, Matty knew you’d want some plastic explosives, so she sent some over. Isn’t she great, Riles?”

Riley looked between Jacks raised eyebrows, and Mac’s delighted face at the toys in front of him, before realising what was happening. 

“Ohhhhh...right. Yes, Matty is amazing. That’s definitely plastic explosives.”   
Mac started building his bomb that definitely wouldn’t work, because even if he managed to make something dangerous without the use of C4, Jack had taken the batteries out of the remote control car and walkie talkies, so the detonator would never work anyway. 

Riley couldn’t help but laugh a little. Mac was playing with plasticine thinking it was C4, and he kept dropping the pieces he was holding. Jack stayed close to his side, to help, brushing the kids hair out of his face, when Mac went to rub his heavy eyes.

Meanwhile, Bozer was busy pulling ice packs from the freezer and placing them around the tourniquet, and snagging a pen from the counter to write the time he applied the tourniquet, near the wound. He’d already dressed the wound in a tight bandage, while Jack had been talking to Matty in the other room, and Bozer felt like he could finally breathe.

Thankfully, the bag strap had done its job and the bleeding was under control, but Mac wasn’t out of danger yet, and he wouldn’t be letting his guard down until the actual medical professionals arrived. 

He was doing all he could, but if help took too long to get there, or something went wrong, he would be the one explaining to his best friend why he lost his leg. 

Riley’s hand appeared on his shoulder, and he looked up to see her gentle smile, reassuring and calm. “You’re doing great. Matty said the medevacs almost here.”

Bozer looked over to where Jack was talking to Mac about what a good job he was doing, hands shaking slightly as he adjusted the ice packs and pulled the blanket back over Mac’s feet. 

“I just...I hate seeing him like this. He’s supposed to be invincible, you know? No matter what, he always has a plan, and he always gets out of it okay. This just made me realize that it’s not always going to be that way.”

Riley swept her hand down his arm to take his hand instead, and Bozer was suddenly so grateful they were friends, knowing she would never have offered such comfort had he still been hung up on her. “Hey, we aren't going to lose him, not today. He’ll be okay, and you'll get to take care of him at home until he’s all healed up for work again. You can mother hen him, like I know you love to do, and at least that way we all get a break from work. I’m scared too, but it’s okay.”

She was right, they’d be fine just like they always were. He smiled at her, squeezing her hand back. “Thanks, Riley.”

She smiled back, just as helicopter blades could be heard chopping through the air, and all heads turned to the windows. 

Jack smiled, feeling almost faint with relief. “Thank god. You hear that buddy? We’re gonna get you some help, and make you feel all better, okay?”

Mac blinked his eyes open again, and dropped the mangled mess of walkie talkie wires, and plastic to his chest; voice coming as a mumble. “Hmm tired.”

Bozer sniffed, blinking away the moisture in his eyes. It was almost over. “You finished your bomb yet?”

Mac frowned and lifted the mess he’d made. “It’s a radio.”

Riley snorted out a laugh, a little hysterically, as Jack joined in. They were finally going home. 

Mac was swarmed with medical personnel, and given the care he needed, just as promised. They stabilized him on the flight, and took him immediately into surgery on arrival to the closest private medical facility, before being flown back home to fully recover. 

Of course the others were not satisfied with simply believing he was okay, and insisted on stay close till he was back on his feet. 

“What are you doing?”

Mac looked to the doorway where Jack was watching him try to get out of bed on his own. “Going to the bathroom?”

Jack frowned, and walked over, wrapping his arm around his partners waist as he eased him to his feet. “Not by yourself you're not. You know what the doctor said, you can’t be on this leg more than absolutely necessary.”

Mac resisted the urge to roll his eyes, as he gripped into Jack and accepted his help down the hall. “This is necessary. And don’t think I’m letting you in with me.”

Jack scoffed, as they reached the bathroom door. “Chill out, it’s not like its my dream to watch you take a piss.” 

Mac pushed Jacks hands away as he took his own weight, leaning against the wall, and closing the door behind him. 

“Don’t lock it! I don’t want to have to break it down if you fall over!”

This time Mac couldn’t suppress it, and rolled his eyes as he groaned. “Whatever.”

Jack would have happily waited outside the door for him, had Riley not called out for some help with dinner. The agent reluctantly left, cursing the timing of it, as he went to help. 

Luckily for Mac, he was still gone by the time he came out, and he took his chance of un-supervision, and hobbled down the hallway on his own. 

Of course, the doctor was right, and he was in no way ready for walking again. He only made it a few steps before it became too painful, and his knees crumpled. 

He only had a millisecond to think about how much it would hurt to hit the floor, before arms wrapped around his chest and hauled him up, saving him from a horrible fall to the ground. 

“Now, what in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Mac tried to act innocent, as Jack guided him out to the couch in the lounge, taking most of the younger agents weight. 

“Uhh...nothing?”

“Yeah, right. I can’t leave you alone for five minutes can I? It’s like having a toddler.”

Bozer laughed as Jack gently set Mac on the couch. “Should we get you some more toys to play with, Mac?”

Riley joined in the joke, tossing Jack a lump of playdough. “I got some C4 here, if you want some.”

Jack laughed, and even Mac was smiling, although he pretended to be insulted for their sake. “Ha ha, that’s hilarious. It’s not my fault I was hit in the head and shot. Why don’t we get to make fun of Jack, when he’s hurt?”

Jack ruffled Mac’s hair, making him smack his hand away, annoyed. “Because I may be devilishly handsome, but I ain't as cute as you are, Mac; thinking you were blowing up vans with water bottles.”

Riley came over to the couch to sit next to Mac as he tried to hide his smile. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and squeezed tight. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Bozer came to pat his shoulder. “Me too man.”

Jack got that warm look in his eyes whenever he thought about how much he loved those three kids. “Yeah, thanks for not dying on us, Mac. I honestly don’t know what we’d do without you.”

Mac may have had to listen to their jokes for a while, even getting a few jokes from Matty, but really he didn’t mind all that much; because he knew that even when he couldn't tell up from down, and playdough from explosives, his team would always take care of him. And really, he couldn't ask for anyone better.

**Author's Note:**

> the police are probably coming to my door because of the stuff I googled for this fic lol and apparently plastic explosives look just like Plasticine it's kind of cool actually anyway lol I hope you like it sorry its so bad all the ideas got mixed together in my head so the pacing is way off and idk 
> 
> I'll get back to spiderman prompts now


End file.
